WELL, it could be a lot worse – at least it’s only on E4, which should help with the damage limitation.

WELL, it could be a lot worse – at least it’s only on E4, which should help with the damage limitation. But, seriously, there really is no need to get worked up about, hate or take Desperate Scousewives seriously – because there’s nothing serious about it.

Some might say E4 isn’t a proper, grown up channel – which makes it the perfect home for this eight-parter, as it isn’t a proper, grown-up series.

The cry has already gone out from the Desperate Scousewives camp (there are no wives and only some of them are Scousers, although they are obviously desperate – for the limelight) that they’re not doing anyone any harm – so why all the criticism, even ahead of the opener? What’s the problem?

But it isn’t personal, or it shouldn’t be, and there isn’t really a problem with the Desperates themselves. It might be tempting to despair of all the shallowness and superficiality on show, and even direct your anger at the participants, but perhaps the real problem is that they have been given a platform.

Personally, I blame Channel 4’s Big Brother for this “dramality” drivel. It was probably only a matter of time before programme-makers thought “Never mind filming ordinary, everyday attention-seekers in a camera-filled house – let’s film them in their natural habitats, whether that be in Essex, Chelsea, Newcastle or Liverpool.”

“And, knowing how dull so much of that BB conversation could be, let’s give them a helping hand by staging and contriving some, ahem, real conversations.”

But let’s try – at least try! – to accentuate the positives. As well as some nice shots of Liverpool, there was plenty of comedy in the first programme (far more than we’ve seen in the first three episodes of the latest Ricky Gervais self-indulgence – Life’s Too Short), and, for the watching men, plenty of cleavage.

The comedy began early, with Jodie Lundstram standing at Lime Street station and shouting: “Liverpool, I’m back!” Sorry, chuck, I didn’t even know you’d been away. Who are you again?

Jodie Lundstram arriving at Lime Street station

In The Priory Salon in Anfield, the brash motormouth later gave an expert demonstration of how not to behave in a job interview – she told Chris Johnson White and Mark Johnson White she probably wouldn’t come in on the days her brother was playing football.

But she got the job, thanks to her “Scousebrow” speciality (the last time I saw eyebrows that big they were on male Thunderbirds puppets) and, possibly, her comedy skills.

After Chris and Mark told her they were looking into anal bleaching, she replied: “That’s a bit Hollywood, isn’t it? We are only in Anfield.”

The first episode was set against the backdrop of the Juice FM Style Awards at the Hillbark Hotel in Frankby, Wirral and no conversation between the main boys and girls involved was too awkward or stilted to include.

But comedy gold was never far away – after we saw Amanda Harrington and Chloe Cummings, like two modern-day Hilda Ogdens, walking through Liverpool with their big hair rollers in (maybe a relatively small number of Liverpool women believe this is compulsory), they chatted about the looming awards bash.

And then, after a beautifully-timed comic pause, Amanda replied: “No.”

You can’t teach that.

Later, Amanda, obviously highly-skilled in the art of self-promotion, plugged her own calendar. Cue more comedy . . .

Chloe: “How many pages are there?”

Amanda: “Twelve . . . there are only 12 months.”

The Desperates, we have been told, know how to laugh at themselves and they at least deserve credit for doing this throughout the first episode.

Sadly, there was also lots of boring, who’s-slept-with-who? and who-might-sleep-with-who? guff. These “dramatic” scenes were the ones packed with stilted conversations – and awkward pauses. But they were bound to be – these people may want to be on television, but they’re not trained actors.

Jaiden Michael ( pictured
) was probably the star turn, though it wasn’t a promising start: “I am Britain’s most brutal blogger,” he boasted. Never heard of you, mate.

But he was good value in his role as a panto villain – as seen in his highly-amusing bitching sessions about Ms Harrington (which paved the way for the finale, when the “ice queen” threw a drink over him).

Not being part of this very small circle, it was difficult to know which bits were drama, which bits were reality and which bits were – modern-day idiot box word – dramality.

But thinking too much about Desperate Scousewives is probably bad for your mental health. Accept it for what it is – fluffy and, at times, funny nonsense. Was all the comedy intentional? Who knows? Who cares?

Right, I wonder what the odds are on one of the Desperates appearing in next year’s I’m A Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here?

Reread the live blog, which ran on the Liverpool Echo website as the first episode aired.

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The Editor

Alastair Machray

Alastair Machray was appointed editor of The Liverpool Echo in 2005 and is also editor-in-chief of Trinity Mirror Merseyside, Cheshire and North Wales. He is a former editor of The Daily Post (Wales and England) and editor-in-chief of the company's Welsh operations. Married dad-of-two and keen golfer Alastair is one of the longest-serving newspaper editors in the country. His titles have won numerous awards and spearheaded numerous successful campaigns.